


The Next Great Adventure

by starzangelus



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Season Two AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:32:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starzangelus/pseuds/starzangelus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan gets trapped in a closet with Captain Hook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Great Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> CS Valentine gift for rosethevaliant. Season 2 AU. Title taken from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."
> 
> Edited to fix a continuity error.

This wasn’t happening.

She was sitting on her foot, her leg clumsily bent beneath her, and no matter how hard she twisted or turned, the lack of space prevented great movement. She tugged on the ropes around her wrists again.

There was a hiss of pain. “Honestly, lass, I’m beginning to think you _enjoy_ my pain.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and she pulled the ropes even harder, and there was another grunt of pain. “Will you stop that!”

“No,” she muttered, sighing in defeat, and resting her head against his. “This isn’t happening.”

“I assure you that it is.”

“This is all your fault.”

“And how, pray tell, did you come to that conclusion? If I recall correctly, _you_ were the one who pointed that blasted contraption in her face and called her _wicked_.” He paused and she felt him tilt his head as if in thought. “I’d never seen her get that angry before. Not even when you stole the compass.”

“Uh, excuse me. _I_ didn’t steal the compass. Anton gave it to me. And anyway that doesn’t even matter! What the hell were you doing there anyway? This was between me and Cora and if you hadn’t come, prancing along like Jack Sparrow, I could have shot her in the face, Storybrooke would be safe, and I wouldn’t be here, stuck in a closet, tied to Captain freaking Hook!” Emma sighed again and tried to wiggle her foot to keep her circulation going. She could feel the numbness crawl slowly up her leg and she wanted to scream. The closet could not have been more than three by five feet in area and was used as some sort of storage closet, with a mop, broom, and bucket in the corner and various cleaning solutions in the other. Emma didn’t remember who exactly was in charge of the cannery here in Storybrooke but it was in desperate need of a good dusting. “I think I would have preferred if she killed me.”

She heard him snort and he then felt him sit straighter, the ropes around their waists putting her back more closely to his. “It could be worse.”

“Are you serious? How could this get any worse?”

“You could get pulled underwater by mermaids and slowly drown in agony. You could get cursed by bloody pixies and bleed through every orifice every time you have a lovely thought. Or you could have your hand ruthlessly cut off and have only rum to ease the pain.”

“Oh. Well, I mean, uh—“

“Just offering a better basis for comparison, Swan.”

“I suppose that does put things in perspective,” she said, frowning and trying to not think about pixies. “Seriously? _Every_ orifice?”

“I would rather not talk about that, Swan.”

“Okay.”

He clicked his tongue and exhaled noisily. “How about this? Put your weight into mine and use your other leg to push yourself up. Perhaps we could situate ourselves more comfortably.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The numbness in her leg began to turn painful. “I am ready when you are.”

She felt him lean a little forward. “I am positioned. Go.”

Emma propped bent her free leg, bringing her knee to her chest, and slowly and carefully pushed against Hook’s back, while at the same time he, too, rose gradually. After a few tense moments where she almost lost her balance, she was able to pull her leg out from under her and they were finally both able to stand fully. It was slightly awkward with his added height pulling the ropes higher on her chest but the relief was wonderful, and she slowly felt life return to her leg. She bit back a moan.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Well, I don’t consider myself that highly, Swan, but you’re welcome, nonetheless.”

She rolled her eyes and counted to ten in her head. “Okay, now what?”

“Hmm, that is the question. Let me see if I can—“

She felt him tug at the ropes at their wrists.

“This is much easier.” More tugging. “If only that damn witch hadn’t taken my hook—“

“That wasn’t my fault, by the way.”

“I know. It’s fine, love. I am almost—“

Suddenly, the ropes fell from her wrists and her hands were free.

“Got it!” She could feel the smug, stupid grin on his face. “Simple.”

“Yeah, for a pirate,” she said, but she felt herself grinning. “Think you can undo the other ones?”

“I believe so but the knot is not on my side.”

“It’s on mine.”

“Oh, well this is about to get interesting.”

“What do you—“

Without warning, Emma felt his hand grip her hip and bring their forms closer together, head to head, back to back, and legs to legs. An uncontrolled shiver ran up her spine from the contact. Despite having spent nearly an hour in such proximity to the unpredictable pirate, this new position felt more intimate, more heated, and her wayward thoughts suddenly conjured an image of another time when she was in his arms, only weeks ago in a giant’s lair… She shook her head and clenched her eyes shut. She didn’t have time to think about that. Hook may not have been a public nuisance since his arrival in Storybrooke but he had formed an alliance with the enemy, nonetheless, and for that she would remain wary. Emma was surprised that he had yet to attempt anything openly hostile to Gold but those questions were for another time. Right now, she needed to be free of him.

As her thoughts whirled in a tumultuous storm, Hook had managed to slide the knot slowly away from her upper right abdomen to her left arm. “Uh… you’re kind of going the wrong way.”

An exasperated sigh. “The information would have been useful a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, well, you could have said something.”

“Actually, I did. You were just too distracted by my grabbing you to notice.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t need to when you do it so wonderfully.”

“Do you listen to yourself? Does this ever actually work? Because let me tell you—“

It happened so suddenly that for a moment Emma forgot which way was up and which way was down. With a loud thud, a grunt of pain from where her knee hit a sensitive area, and a sharp pain as her head landed against the door, Emma released a gust of breathe as a large, heavy, leather-clad body landed on top of hers, while his forehead collided into her chin.

“Bloody buggering fuck!”

There was a small window on the wall opposite the door, completely covered in dust that allowed a few rays of light to enter the small space, and Emma looked down to see a very disgruntled pirate lying on top of her. His bad arm was tangled behind his back and, if possible, the ropes brought their bodies even closer. She felt a flutter in her belly, like the first dip on a rollercoaster, at his proximity and she stiffened.

“You okay?” she asked tentatively, staring at his dark hair that glistened even in this low light.

He raised his head slowly, brushing his nose lightly against hers, and his too blue eyes bore into hers. “Aye. Never better.”

It was as if time froze and Emma lay transfixed at this unfortunate turn of events. It occurred to her in the back of her muddled mind that she should be scandalized over their positions on the floor but the tingling feeling had returned that she thought she had been rid of back in the Enchanted Forest and her fingers ached to reach out and touch him. Stunned out of her thoughts, she attempted to reach up her arm and push him back. He needed to get off her and she needed to run, run, run away, far away…

“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy, love,” he said gently, his voice husky and clothed with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. “I fear that I was not the only thing that came upon you.”

As Emma took in his words she looked around and noticed that their situation was more dire than she had first anticipated. Some wooden boards that she had noticed earlier lay diagonally behind his back, and she was surprised that he did not appear to be in too much pain, though she could clearly see the strain in his face. She realized with shame that he was holding himself and the boards with one arm in order to not crush her. Once again, she wondered exactly what his true motives were, for at times he was still the ruthless man that left her imprisoned in Rumplestiltskin’s cage, and other times he was the brave (or idiotic) man that goaded a giant.

“Why are you here?” she blurted out.

Hook frowned uncertainly and tilted his head as best he could. “I beg your pardon?”

Emma bit her lip and she saw his gaze stray down for a brief moment before he looked at her eyes again. “In Storybrooke. You… you came here to seek revenge on the man who took your hand, you said. It’s been weeks and besides annoying me incessantly, you haven’t done anything. I—I’m the Sherriff,” she stuttered, and she hated herself for sounding so helpless. “I need to know.”

“You are fully informed of my motives, Swan. I have no others.”

Lie. He was lying and he told her he had never lied to her.

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” He raised a sardonic eyebrow, arrogant smirk painted firmly on his face.

“I know you are,” she replied with conviction. “I told you before, I know when people are lying to me and so I will ask one more time… Why. Are. You. Here?”

“For the pleasure of your company,” he said cheekily and that damn eyebrow rose again.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Hook! I don’t have time for your damn games! I have a town to protect and if you are here planning on doing—whatever it is you are doing—I need to know now!”

His eyes flashed dangerously and in an instant his face was nearly pressed against hers. “I told you, _Sherriff_ Swan, I am here for one reason, and one reason alone: to skin myself a crocodile.”

“Really?” she asked, raising her own unamused eyebrow. “And how do you plan on doing that? With your hook? Well, I’ve got news for you, buddy. Your entire mission—“ She poked him in the arm. “—is _suicide_. Gold has magic here in Storybrooke and if you try to get near him, I guarantee you he will do you more harm than you can dream about doing to him.”

“We’ll see,” he said, glaring back at her.

And then it hit her.

_He took more than your hand from you, didn’t he? That’s why you want to kill him._

Emma had not forgotten about Hook’s tattoo… _Milah_ , she remembered somberly. She knew that a severed limb was not enough motivation to pursue a revenge that spanned hundreds of years (a fact that she had stumbled upon a while back when Henry had explained to her just how old Rumplestiltskin was). Hook had been in love once, with this woman, this _Milah_ , and he wanted nothing more than to avenge her, even if it meant _dying_ for it and for some reason that infuriated Emma and she glared back at him with absolute anger.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“You have no idea what I’m doing,” he retorted hotly. They were now nose to nose.

“You have to let it go,” she whispered forlornly and she was horrified to discover that she had the unbearable urge to cry.

He flinched in anger at her words and for several moments they stared at each other with unbridled fury.

Emma watched as several emotions displayed across his pinched face and felt a strange pride that she had somehow succeeded to fill him with unease. It didn’t matter that he was angry at her because that meant that he was feeling something towards someone else, and perhaps it was enough to anchor him into some semblance of reality that would bring sense back into him. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but Emma was certain that he wasn’t a truly bad man, just terribly misguided, and that maybe she could pull him back into that person she had glimpsed briefly up on the beanstalk. Perhaps, she could save him from his thoughts of joining his beloved in death…

And it was with that thought that she became aware that whatever rage had swelled between them had somehow abated and they were now gazing at each other thoughtfully.

Involuntarily, she let het her eyes wander down to his lips that were pressed firmly into a line. Slowly, as if memorizing every detail, she took in his mouth, his mustache and his beard, his elegant nose and thick brows, finally settling on his eyes. Truth be told, they were the most beautiful shade of blue she had ever seen and were surrounded by a lovely set of eyelashes that only accentuated their beauty. It was with a heavy heart that Emma finally admitted what she had noticed since she had first laid eyes on him: that he was the most handsome man she had ever met, and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

With a gentleness that she had no idea she possessed, she brought a hand up and let her finger trace along the scar on his face. “What happened?” she whispered.

Hook closed his eyes as if in pain and Emma regretted immediately what she had done. “”Tis long ago, love.”

Then he was moving away and Emma felt the ropes fall around her like water. He had managed to cut the rope without her knowing it and she felt a cold emptiness settle in her stomach as he braced himself against the floor—hand and stump beside her head—to raise himself and the boards and free them both. After what seemed like an eternity, the boards were placed against the wall, and she and Captain Hook were standing as far away from each other as the small room allowed, patting the dust away from their clothes.

A dreadfully long silence followed until curiosity got the best of her. “Why didn’t she kill us?” Emma asked him, hoping desperately that her voice sounded steady instead of how she felt (shaky).

“I have absolutely no clue,” Hook replied genuinely, looking at the floor. He turned serious eyes towards her. “This changes nothing, Swan.”

“I know.”

And with a flick of his hand, he opened the door and strode out, leather coat billowing behind him, almost mockingly.

Emma slipped down to the ground, bringing her knees against her chest, and cried.


End file.
